“I hereby resolve…”

My whole life, I have made New Year’s resolutions. They are like anyone else’s, I’m sure: Lose twenty pounds, exercise every day, cut the sugar, add the fiber, try to be more punctual. And like most people, I do not keep them. Last year, I decided to keep it simple, and so my one resolution was to use my electric toothbrush for the recommended full two minutes, rather than the 27 seconds I had been allotting. By February, my teeth felt like they were covered in raw nerve endings, and my dentist advised me to back off, way off, as I was on my way to receding gums. So much for good intentions…

My husband is very goal-oriented, and likes to regularly point out that one must have clearly defined goals, and clearly defined steps toward those goals, all written down on paper, which should be posted conspicuously and frequently consulted. He does get a lot done, but I have to smirk a tiny bit when I am cleaning out a drawer, and I find a to-do list that is years old, and the ratio of completed items to those ignored is way out of whack. His method may work for some people, some of the time, but apparently it does not work for me.

Like spiders, I am never more than three feet away from a stack of Post-It notes. They rule my universe at the office. They are on my calendar on the wall, the flip calendar on my desk, on every file, my computer screen, the phone, the wall, the adding machine, dotted on every surface of my desk, which surrounds me on three sides, my side table, my credenza. They are pastel, neon, lined and plain, in every available size and color. I have become so immune to them, that I have taken to putting them on the handset of my phone or in the middle of my computer monitor, so that I cannot work or make a phone call without acknowledging their existence. I put them on the back of my hand, or tuck one into my bra, knowing that the scratchiness will remind me later to pull it out and look at it. I shed them, and they wind up all over the office, in the copy room, at the front desk, under the wheel of my chair or the bottom of my shoe. Sometimes I will get off the phone, and look down to see that I have taken notes on a Post-It, but cannot make heads or tails of what I have written. So good luck on the ones that grow legs and sneak away…important thoughts and reminders, drifting like dust.

I have tried the Post-It note routine at home, with my good intentions and resolutions, and the results have been bleak. So this year, I resolve to have no resolutions that I will not keep. Instead, I am going to give myself the annual reminder about the things that I think will make me a better person, and make the world a better place. Here is my list:

Every day, I will try to do at least one good thing that will either nourish my body or nourish my soul. Ideally, something from each category. In the interest of efficiency, possibly a thing that covers both categories at once. They do not have to be big things, but maybe the little things will string together and make a difference over time. There was a point a few years ago when work was so slow, I had plenty of time on my hands, so I did many small things every day and I felt great. I made a list of everything that I did that was beneficial to my health, and the list was quite long. I need to find that list, and remind myself of the things I am still doing, and what I need to add back in to my daily life. Drink enough water to be truly hydrated. Take my supplements. Make a green juice. Do yoga, stretch, walk, swim, hike, kayak, lift, move. Meditate, ruminate, create. Do oil pulling. Detoxify. Floss, moisturize, brush my hair, my skin, my teeth. I need reminders that my vessel is not separate from me, it is me. If my body ceases to function, I cease to exist.

I will work hard at work, but I will turn off the hyper-efficiency switch when I go home, and try to live the balance of my life at a pace that does not induce manic behavior, unrealistic expectations, and panic and unease in those around me. If I fail to think ahead and make one more trip up and down the stairs than was absolutely necessary, the world will not come to an end.

I will spend enough time in nature to feel like I exist in harmony with the planet, and not just act like a passenger on it. I will reduce, reuse, recycle. I will hike and kayak to new places, and savor and observe the natural world around me. I will watch birds and insects and animals, and marvel at them all. I will honor the seasonal rhythms of nature, and let the sun and moon dictate my rhythms. I will continue to let the light and dark wake me up and put me to sleep, and only set an alarm for special occasions. If the moon is calling me to wake up and create, I will listen. If the twinkling stars are lighting up the beach at low tide at 2:00 am, and I wake up, I will get up and gaze at the sky, and if that inspires me, I will stay up and let myself be inspired.

I will not hide my emotions, or apologize for them. Forgive thou for thy weepiness. I will work hard to listen to what my emotions are trying to tell me, and I will make every effort to not leave an emotional wake that disrupts the lives of others. I will honor the changes in my mind and heart that I feel are coming as I begin to move through the physical changes that come with age. I will strive to move through those changes in a natural way, and to treat them as a natural progression, not a disease.

I will continue to educate myself on ways to improve my health with natural remedies, and not succumb to advertising, common thought, and practices that are in place to mask symptoms and line pockets, rather than find solutions and heal. I will let food be my medicine, and let movement be my therapy. I will not be disappointed in myself if I try all of those things, and I still need an occasional antibiotic or elective surgical meniscus carving.

I will find ways to create deeper bonds with the people I love, and let them know they are important to me. I will find ways to stay close to a son who has become a man, and lives in another hemisphere. I will find ways to connect and stay relevant to a son who is close to becoming a man, and though he is usually just upstairs on the computer, often seems like he, too, lives in another hemisphere. I will take steps to deepen and strengthen my marriage, and to communicate in meaningful and productive ways. I will honor my parents, my husband’s parents, and all of my extended family, by finding ways to be more helpful, more patient, more open. I will seek out old friends, and find ways to connect that make us actually feel connected, even if it is sporadic, brief and remote.

I will look at the pictures and read the stories of people around the world who are in trouble, who are helplessly adrift in seas of turmoil that are not of their own making. I will pray for them, vote in ways that I hope will help them, contribute my resources to organizations set up for their aid, as much as I am able. I will be grateful that I live in a time and place of choices, knowing that luxury does not exist for so many others, and I will not squander those choices.

I will have faith in God, my Higher Power, and be respectful and tolerant of others who may answer to a different Higher Power, as long as they use their faith for good, not evil. I will give thanks for all creation, for the chance at everlasting life, and for the miracle of life itself. I will endeavor to live in a way that honors the magnitude of that miracle.

I will do my best to teach, to lead, to inspire. To set a good example for those around me, and to live a life of gratitude and respect. To be cheerful in the face of adversity, positive in a world full of negativity and rage, and to be empowered in a world run rampant with power struggles.

I will try to internalize this list, and hope that these things all begin to come naturally, so that I can do away with some of the Post-It notes, and maybe save a tree or two. If you catch me not living up to this list, please forgive me, remind me to refer back to my non-resolutions, and if all else fails, hand me a new pack of Post-Its, preferably in a new, stand-out color.

I resolve to have a Happy New Year, and I wish that for you, as well.